


The Underworld

by Kementari689



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Assassin's Creed Multiplayer, Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood, Assassins vs. Templars, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, Fanfiction, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-20 23:57:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14272356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kementari689/pseuds/Kementari689
Summary: Fiora Cavazza is feared by many and loved by few. Her devotion to the Order is to be admired. But as the assassins make their presence known in Roma, as well as a certain Master Assassin, Fiora begins to see the lines of her reality begin to blur.This is the story of Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood with the addition of all the multiplayer characters.





	1. The First Impression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fiora's life was normal. Until it wasn't.

The man owed money, a very large sum. That's all she knew as to the reason she was stalking this fat noble. His skin was an unhealthy pallor, falling in disgusting rolls, while his clothes were outlandish colors that clashed and screamed for attention. Perhaps not the right attention, no? It was early in the evening but dark enough for the torches to be lit along the streets and cast large shadows, as well as dark enough for the underbelly of Roma to begin to surface. The street Fiora walked was busy with activity, stern businessmen on their way home from work, women doing their last minute shopping, courtesans on every corner, and at least one drunken man down each alley. All of this was what she needed: distraction. Walking with a slight sway, she saw the eyes of even the chastest of men looking in her direction. Passing a hand over her shoulder, she swept all her hair to one side, exposing her neck. The noble was now on his way to one of the courtesans on the corner, a dirty blonde walking gingerly but smiling all the same. _Seems she's already had_ business _._ Fiora sauntered over to the other side of the street, walking up to a man leaning against the building, his eyes focused on everything but her face.

" _Salute_ , sailor," she purred, her thigh brushed against his.

" _Salute_ ," he responded, a hand moving to her waist.

"You look like you've had a hard day's work?" Fiora said, fiddling with the stained collar of the man's shirt.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the noble being lead by the hand into the dark alley just off of the corner. Time to move.

"I have. I'm in need of a bit of respite," he said, his voice husky, his other hand on her waist.

"Hmmm, too bad I'm booked, _c_ _aro._ " Fiora ran a finger across his lips before she slid out of his meaty hands and crossed the street, slipping into the dark alley after the noble.

It wasn't hard to find them. The noble sounded like a hungry pig and the courtesan wasn't much better. Walking up to the undulating couple, Fiora grabbed the noble by the collar and quite literally disengaged him from the woman. He hit the pavement hard and scrambled to hide his swollen appendage.

"Leave," Fiora ordered to the courtesan, her voice holding none of the seductive tones it had before. The woman stood shocked for a moment but then scrambled down the alley and disappeared around the corner.

"W-w-who are you? What-what do you want?" the noble cried, crawling away from Fiora as she slowly advanced.

"You've been a naughty boy, _signore_. Whatever will the Order do with you?" she taunted, her saunter returning as she removed her fan from its case, flicking it open and fanning herself slowly. The noble's eyes, if possible, widen more and his grip on his still undone pants tightened. Fiora smirked.

"Wait! Give me a couple more days. I can get the money I owe!"

"And watch you waste it away, excited over trash? I'm afraid I can't do that, signore."

She pounced. In one fluid movement, she leaped forward and struck the noble's throat, severing to the bone. The noble fell back into a puddle of thick, red blood. He didn't even have time to cry in fear.

"I've come to collect," Fiora whispered in the dead man's ear, wiping her fan on the noble's tunic before straightening and returning it to its sheath.

Just another day in the underworld of Roma.

Fiora made her way to the barbershop, swaying with the crowd. It was now late in the night and the moon was high. Entering the shop, she dropped the courtesan attitude and studied the vacant shop.

"Baltasar!"

Nothing. Fiora sighed and walked further into the shop.

"Baltasar!"

A man dressed as a barber suddenly appeared from the back of the shop, his beady eyes filled with annoyance and expectancy.

"Is the deed done?" Baltasar questioned.

"The pig is dead," Fiora replied, falling into a chair and propping her feet on the nearby table.

"Cesare will be pleased then. The noble asked for more than he could pay for."

Fiora scoffed at the mention of Cesare," What news of the assassins?"

"They've been making more moves and becoming bolder by the day," Baltasar said, sitting in the chair opposite her.

"They say the _Maestro_ has arrived." Fiora raised an eyebrow.

She had heard of this _Maestro_ , Cesare had spoken of him before. What was his name? Ah, Ezio Auditore. A handsome name.

Baltasar continued," Rumors.  Auditore has yet to appear but the  _assassini_ are organizing. Cesare wants us to continue our surveillance and find the _Maestro._ "

Fiora hummed," Cesare's feeling threatened, I see. This Auditore must be quite a man."

"A man that will soon be face down in a pool of his own blood."

Eyeing Baltasar warily, she doubted that they could ever really take down this Auditore. The stories that she'd heard of Auditore and the assassins in Venezia and Firenzia spoke of their undeniable success and their annoying habit of staying alive.

"Well, if we're done here," she started, standing and walking towards the door," I'll take my leave."

"Cesare has a new assignment for you tomorrow," Baltasar called after her.

"Surprise, surprise," she muttered as she exited the shop, plastering the courtesan back onto her countenance.

Fiora was several streets down from her home when she heard the screams from a nearby alley. A conflict began in her, she was only a few streets from home and she was ready to collapse onto her coach. But she had a soft spot for the weak, Cesare always mocked her for it. Running a hand through her hair, she sighed and looked at the stars. _Damn._ Taking off toward the sound of the screams, she found the alley and found a large man beating a woman. The man's friends stood by and laughed, giving him advice as to where to inflict more pain. Silently, Fiora sprinted up behind the man and rolled off his back, forcing him to bend over and release the woman. Landing on her knees in front of him, she lashed at his throat, the force of the swing sending the, now dead, man on his back. Blood splattered the walls and a few drops found its way onto Fiora's face. The woman cried in fear as she looked into Fiora's eyes and ran. _Smart girl._ Fiora swung around to face the man's companions but found none, save their bodies scattered on the pavement and white hooded man bending over one of them. Senses screaming of danger, Fiora tried not to respond too violently or fearfully to the man in white as he straightened and turned towards her.

" _Buona Sera, signora_."

_Assassino…_

Fiora didn't move. In seconds, she tried to study all she could about the assassin in front of her. Clothed in white with a cape and a sash of red, his armor was rather light, allowing quick movement. Weapons littered his form; a sword strapped to his hip, throwing daggers in any place that would allow, a vicious dagger, and a small hammer strapped to his side. His countenance was completely shadowed save a bearded chin and mouth, which held a scar and a smirk. Fiora narrowed her eyes, what did he find so amusing? In the end, her irritation outdid her fear.

"I could have handled this on my own," she finally said, flicking the blood off her fan.

"I completely agree," he responded, glancing behind her at her victim.

"But I couldn't let you have all the fun."

His voice was deep and relaxed, flirtatious even. _He obviously has no idea who I am_. The smirk never left and before Fiora could react, he held her hand in his and brushed his lips along her fingers. Jerking back, she ripped her hand out of his and backed away. _Why is he being so civil? I just killed a man! He should be fearful or disgusted, not cordial._

"Hmm, for courtesan you're rather… unaccommodating," he hummed, teasing.

_Damn._

She'd dropped her courtesan act in the fight and with the sudden appearance of her enemy, it remained unworn. It was too late now to act the part of a courtesan; he knew she was much more.

"I'm currently off duty," Fiora replied, trying to salvage the situation.

"Ah, I see…" He didn't believe her.

"Well, signore, my business is done here," she said, turning to leave but his voice stopped her.

"May I at least be honored with the opportunity of knowing your name, _signora_?" Fiora looked over her shoulder at his outstretched arms, silently inviting her to trust him. Why?

"I'm afraid I don't give my name to strangers. My _Madre_ taught me it's very dangerous to do so," she smirked, flicking her fan open.

The man chuckled. "Then let me no longer remain a stranger," he responded and gave a low bow. "My name is Ezio Auditore and it is my pleasure to meet you."

There was a small twitch in her fanning. It was the second time that night that Fiora's insides twisted uncomfortably but she couldn't help but be amused. _If only he knew who I was, then he wouldn't be so pleased._

"Ezio… A handsome name," she purred, pulling up her courtesan attitude in a hope to hide the recognition in her eyes. Her instincts were telling her to run or to kill him, but just from her short study of the _maestro_ , there was no way she could defeat him. So she curtsied.

"Fiora," she said, her gut twisted.

"Fiora… A beautiful name," he responded, eyeing her.

A loud bang resounded down the alley and the silent killers dropped into a defensive position, Ezio spinning around to face the noise. There was shouting and cursing, sounding more like a harmless bar fight than a threat. _A bar fight or not, this is my chance_ , eyeing the assassin's back. Slinking backward and away from the master assassin, she took off. She ran hard and fast, passing her hideout and hiding in the shadows of an alley. She wanted to make sure the assassin hadn't followed. After waiting for over an hour, she doubled back. Coming to the front of a deceptively shabby looking house, the door barred by large blocks of wood, she climbed the building and lifted herself through the open window into her current resting place. Closing the window, she pressed her forehead to the glass. What luck she had! Not only did she run into an assassin, she ran into the MASTER of the assassins. She sighed and leaned against the wall, sinking to sit on the floor. Replaying everything that happened in the alley, she concluded that Ezio couldn't possibly have known her to be a Templar. She gave nothing away, save that she wasn't just a courtesan. During her thought process, she had removed her gear, weapons, and boots. Getting to her feet, she walked over to a wash bowl and cleaned the dried blood from her skin. Now all that weighed on her mind was whether she should tell Baltasar of her little encounter with Auditore. What bothered her more, however, was that she considered not telling him. She was Templar, was she not? Of course, she would tell Baltasar. But…

" _Cazzo_!" Fiora threw down her towel and stalked over to her couch, throwing her body down.

It wasn't long before her body's fatigue overuled her mind and she fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of a certain assassin and a Templar leader that was never as civil as his enemy had been to her.

\---------------------------------------------

"You're late."

Fiora sighed and closed the door to the back of the barbershop. Because of her late run-in with Ezio Auditore and her hour long stakeout, she slept well past morning and woke in the early afternoon, something she did not ever do.

"I'm here now, just give me Cesare's message," she said, ignoring Baltasar's beady look.

"What happened last night?" he asked, crossing his arms and standing.

"Why do you assume something happened?" Fiora shot back, taking her usual seat by the table.

"You've just barely woken up. You never sleep this late, unless something kept you busy last night," he said, his tone of voice highly irritating.

"I wasn't screwing a noble if that is what you are implying."

"Well, you are a courtesan."

"Was a courtesan."

"No matter but there is something you are not telling me."

I growled and threw my feet up on the table, making sure to make a loud bang with each boot heel.

"I saved a woman from rape last night. Satisfied?" she spat back, glaring.

 _Why am I not telling him about Auditore?_   Baltasar studied Fiora for a moment, the air was tense and Fiora only hoped he believed that there was nothing else to the story.

"You've always had a disgusting soft spot for the helpless. It will be your undoing," he finally said, taking a seat at the table too.

"And yours will be your gambling," she retorted, receiving a nice glare in return.  "Just tell me what Cesare wants to be done."


	2. A Day of Disaster

"You are what makes us worse than what we already are."

"Are you sure? Perhaps it is the other way around, child."

The afternoon was hot, the stone street radiating heat accumulated from the sun and burning Fiora's bare feet as she swayed and cooed with three other courtesans. Of course, they weren't walking alongside her willingly, unless one calls one swipe from her fan to the throat a willing agreement. After her time in the  _bordellos_ , most courtesans made it a point to avoid her, casting her as an exile. But several threats to their already pathetic lives made them cooperative and unwilling to share their experience with others. But that didn't mean they kept quiet while Fiora was within hearing distance. One of the girls, who couldn't be more than fifteen with wispy false blonde hair, was the most vocal.

"At least we have honor. At least we-" she began, hissing behind her fan.

"There is nothing honorable about selling one's virtue for money," Fiora's voice no longer patiently exasperated but hard and final.

The child blushed and focused on a nearby patrol, pursuing the topic no longer. It was a low blow; she hadn't been much different than her when she began her time as a courtesan. But just because she had been one, doesn't mean she was proud of it. Fiora shifted her shoulders, the whore dress falling a little more down her arms, drawing the eyes of more than the common soldier. She had chosen to wear her old common courtesan attire for this outing. A decision the ex-courtesan didn't particularly enjoy but a decision that guaranteed her discretion. As she walked with the other courtesan's, flashes of past memories threatened to steal her attention.

" _Signore, you may choose whoever pleases you most."_

_His gaze wafted over the girls, a confident smirk on his lightly tanned face. Then his sharp eyes locked with hers._

" _You."_

No. She was not doing this here. Shoving against the memory, she pushed it far away from her conscious. Distraction, she needed it now.

"Well, look here boys."

_Right on time._ Fiora smirked and turned to face the small group of approaching guards.

"May we be of service to you boys?" Fiora purred, brushing her hand along her collarbone.

"We promise to give a good time," said the light brunette on her right, tantalizingly lifting her short dressings in the front an inch higher.

A few of the men whistled, another grabbed fast to the little, mouthy blonde's wrist and pulled her to him. Her eyes were panicked for several seconds but her body responded to him, pushing him with her hips into the nearest alleyway. Fiora's gut wrenched with sickness, she didn't like the look in that soldier's eyes. Hot breath pulsed onto Fiora's neck making her turn to the last remaining soldier not already being entertained.

"Shall we find somewhere… private,  _caro_?" she whispered, her mouth inches from his.

The guard smirked but though his eyes shown in an irresistible lust for her, business was on his mind.

Fiora followed the guard through a secluded road between buildings, the walkway narrow and damp. The walkway was a series of dark alleyways connected together and could be found anywhere the buildings were close. The roads of the underworld: shortcuts for thieves, shelters for beggars, and business venues for courtesans. They passed one of the courtesans hard at work and the guard patted his fellow brother with pride as they passed. The guard continued to walk and stopped outside a small archway leading into a secluded and neglected garden.

"He's in there," the guard grunted, jerking his head towards the entrance.

" _Grazie_ ,  _caro_ ," Fiora sighed, clucking a slim finger under his jaw and entering the garden.

"Fiora, I must say, your old uniform makes you more pathetic than your current one. No wonder Cesare picked you."

The voice was gruff, as if the voice box had been dragged down the rough street and been given back to its owner, permanently damaged. Fiora eyes flicked to the farthest corner and found a tall, stocky man in the shadows, his muddy brown cowl revealing only dead eyes and a constant frown.

"You're one to talk, Il Carnefice. When you can manage not to stain your clothes past the point of saving, then you can call me pathetic," she replied with cold civility, eyeing his blood-stained apron and leather breeches with disgust.

"You have orders for me," Carnefice said, ignoring her jab and holding out his hand.

"Cesare has a hefty list this time and he wants it complete in a fortnight," Fiora said, handing him the list.

Carnefice glanced over the list and then, raising an eyebrow, looked up at the ex-courtesan, his black eyes unreflecting.

"Well, it appears you won't be attending Cesare's next party,  _puttana_."

Fiora stilled but kept her face composed.

"Seems your names on the list."

She silently shifted her fan in her hand and hardened into a glare. It was several seconds before the executioner chuckled darkly.

"At peace, sister. I only jest. It wouldn't matter if your name were on it or not. I cannot read."

"Then have your guards read it to you like a good little boy," Fiora hissed, done with his games.

"The list will be done."

Tucking the list behind his apron, he walked away and turned his head as he exited to address her.

"While you're in all your glory, why don't you entertain my guard? Since he has been keeping watch and not joining in the fun with the rest of them."

"I'm no longer in the business."

"Oh? So it wasn't you who had bedded and killed Juan?"

Fiora's nose flared with indignation as the executioner left and the guard entered. Now his eyes held all lust, no seriousness from before.

"Shall we,  _puttana_? I'm in much need of relief and soft skin to bite."

_Men are pigs._

She flicked her fan open, swiped and moved away, the guard's lower tunic and belt falling to the ground, leaving him unprotected in his area of much-needed relief.

"Move any closer and I  _will_ give you the relief you seek," Fiora threatened, moving her fan to reflect the sun and casting a deadly fear into the guard's eyes.

But the guard was foolish, as she expected, and lunged at her. She deepened in her stance ready for his throat to come within striking distance. What she had not expected was the whisper of cloth, the infamous sound of metal against metal and the guard to fall dead at her feet, with a white-clad figure on top of him. The figure withdrew his now bloody hand from the guard's neck, revealing the notorious hidden blade of the  _Assassini_. The assassin stood and stepped over the body to stand inches away from Fiora, a scarred smirk she recognized gracing the handsome features.

"We meet again, Fiora _._ "

_Perfect…_

"Auditore." Her day just kept getting deeper and deeper in the mud.

To say she was surprised was an understatement. Here stood before her the  _maestro_  of the Assassins again, killing Il Carnefice's men, and speaking calmly to her. How much did he hear? Did he see Il Carnefice leave? Does he know what she is? How much does he know?

"I know I'm handsome,  _bella mia_ , but you must learn to guard yourself against my charm," Ezio smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Fiora glared. While she had been deep in thought her eyes had never left the  _assassino_. Her face flushed with embarrassment and frustration.

"You are not as stunning as you think," replied Fiora, holding her chin high.

"No? Then why are you blushing?" The Ezio pointed at her cheeks, his smirk never leaving.

"Don't mistake my irritation for admiration."

"Don't I at least get a thank you?"

"Thank you?"

"I just saved you from an assaulting guard."

The tension in her body relaxed slightly. Judging from his speech, Ezio had not seen Il Carnefice and had not heard her conversation with him. But just having this  _assassino_  close made her tense no matter what.

"I was fine without you."

"Always the unaccommodating courtesan."

Fiora rolled her eyes.  What was it about this man that made her lose her act?  She couldn't pretend that she was the infatuated, innocent courtesan she was supposed to be around him. She opened her mouth to retaliate but stopped when she heard raised voices coming from outside the garden. A growl, a scream of fear and desperation, a loud smack. Fiora's mind returned to the little blonde being lead away, the look in the soldier's eye. The ex-courtesan cursed and ran out of the garden, down the walkway and turned into an alleyway. There, she found the scene she was expecting. A shivering frightened girl with a bright red cheek, trapped in the grasp of a hungry man, forcing himself on her after his time was over. Fiora knew the situation all too well.

"Hey,  _stronzo!_ "

The guard turned towards Fiora, his eyes wild.

"Keep moving,  _puttana_. I'm busy," he grunted and turned back to the girl, who began to cry hysterically.

"Shut up! I'm not through with you!" the guard yelled, readying his hand for another strike.

"I think you are,  _signore_."

The guard turned in confusion toward Fiora and looked behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and discovered Ezio's demeanor completely changed from before. No longer was there the charismatic, boyish charm from before. Now she saw the  _assassino,_ the  _maestro_ of the Assassins, his face stern and still. The guard's eyes widened at Ezio.

" _Assassino…._ " he whispered, dropping the girl and backing towards the street.

The guard's eyes flicked to Fiora's and then back to Ezio's, tumbling backward and running out of the alleyway.

" _Lurido porco_ ," spat Ezio but Fiora was already gone, running after the guard.

On a normal day, Fiora would let the man go. But the man had seen her with Ezio, a Templar agent and an assassin, standing side by side. Better yet, the man was a guard for Il Carnefice, one who joked with her life and would be more than willing to pass the information of her being with an assassin to Cesare. The guard was a liability. As Fiora ran through the crowded streets, hot on the tail of the guard, a shadow passed over the sun and she glanced up at the roofs. Ezio ran and jumped, following the progress of Fiora and the guard from above. Not good, she needed to get to the guard before Ezio. If she didn't, the guard might spill her Templar status to Ezio.

_But why does that matter?_

Her running pace increased, her determination hardening, she had eyes only for her target. He was panicked, limbs flailing with every crowd he encountered and stumbling over boxes and small children. This made it all the more easy for Fiora. She leaped over the ruckus he left in his wake and shoved people out of the way, quickly gaining on him as he turned sharply left into a much smaller and secluded street. In his last moments of desperation, the guard made one fatal mistake: he looked back. Fiora leaped, her fan flicked open behind her and as she made contact, she slit his throat. They fell to the ground, Fiora crouched over the guard who choked and spluttered, his fingers feeling the open gash along his throat.

" _Tra-tradi-tore!"_  the man coughed, a thick blood clot landing on Fiora's cheek as she watched the life leave his eyes.

She breathed heavily and cleaned her fan on the guard's tunic. This was not good. Yes, she silenced the guard but that didn't hide the fact that she now had two dead guards on her hands. And now she would have to explain everything to Il Carnefice  _and then_ to Cesare. This day was glorious.

"Fiora."

The ex-courtesan straightened and looked over her shoulder at Ezio. He stood not far behind her and past him, Fiora glimpsed horrified civilians running in fear or frozen in shock. She needed to get out of here, Cesare's guards would soon be here and then what would she do if they saw her with the assassin?

"The deed is done, Auditore. You may continue with your day," she said and stepped over the guard.

But the moment she put her foot on the ground, she gasped in pain and brought it back up. Fiora looked down to find her self, standing in a pool of her own blood, the precious liquid dripping steadily from her raised foot. She hadn't realized what the chase had done to her bare feet and now she wished she hadn't dressed in her old courtesan attire.

" _Merda…"_

"We need to get you to a  _dottore_ ," said Ezio, taking her arm and putting it over his shoulders.

"No, there is no need-" Fiora began, as he lifted her into his arms.

"No need? You are right, bleeding to death is nothing serious at all," he commented, keeping a straight face but unable to hide the smile in his eyes.  "But I could hardly resist the chance to save a damsel in distress."

He winked, Fiora rolled her eyes. Gone was the deadly assassin, back was the flirt.

"You are impossible."

"Oh, I must disagree,  _cara_. You'll find me  _very_  possible."

\----------------

_I can't be seen with him!_

Here Fiora was, sitting in a chair located in a small room with her feet propped on a stool, a masked  _dottore_  poking and prodding. The room was dodgy and reeked of unnatural aromas, easily giving her a dull headache. Ever since Fiora was a child, the masked  _dottori_  of Italia struck in her a deep uneasiness. It wasn't the men who administered to the afflicted she felt strange about; it was the very idea of a  _dottore_. Why do societies need men of medicine? Because there were sicknesses and random accidents that fate thrust upon humanity. The natural afflictions that the common man has learned to expect were amongst Fiora's greatest fears. Her idea of death was to die for something, not by an illness or a random horse kicking in her head.

"Careful!" she hissed, withdrawing a foot quickly, "You are supposed to heal pain, not cause it."

The  _dottore_  simply stared, as a parent would with a fit-throwing child and then resumed his attention to her feet.

"Forgive her,  _signore_. She tends to shun help. Pay no mind."

And there was also him.

Fiora turned a frosty glare at the assassin who sat on a chair against the wall, watching the scene of a bloody ex-courtesan and a beaked  _dottore_ with amusement. A small panic had settled within her the moment the assassin made his grand entrance by slaying Il Carnefice's guard. Then she made matters worse by killing the other guard. There were going to be questions, there were going to be suspicions. Fiora closed her eyes at the thought and the dread that spread through her more.

_Cesare will not be kind if he finds out._

"You know, people usually try to avoid getting into dangerous situations. Not run to them."

Again, Fiora sent a brilliantly annoyed glare his way. He had a lovely talent for disturbing her inner thoughts.

"Are you saying I'm sick in the head?" she said smoothly, followed with another hiss at the doctor who applied a pasty substance to her soles.

"Perhaps… There is obviously some perversion of perception."

The assassin gave a simple wave of his hand as he spoke, obviously completely comfortable with his surroundings and small smirk settled upon his scarred lips. A stark difference from Fiora, who was so tightly wound, ready to snap with a prompt frown on her face.

"Are you this annoying all the time?"

A smirk.

"Yes, I am this charming all the time."

An eye roll.

Fiora avoided any conversation as the  _dottore_  wrapped her feet in thick bandages and tied it tightly around her ankles. As the  _dottore_  finished the last knot, a finger skimmed an old scar on her shinbone, his eyes meeting hers in a brief understanding. He remembered her, he had treated her before.

"This is all that I can do,  _signora_. You must do the rest by remaining off your feet for several days to let them heal," said the  _dottore_ , walking over to basin to clean his hands of Fiora's blood.

"Then how am I to leave this place?" Fiora growled, widely waving her hand and scrunching her nose at the smells wafted towards her in a result of her movement.

"Perhaps the same way you arrived? This young man seems to be more than willing to assist you," suggested the  _dottore_  to which Ezio let out a laugh.

"Indeed,  _signore_. I am more than willing to  _assist_ ," the assassin hummed, giving Fiora a teasing look.

The assassin then stood and walked to her holding out a pale yellow courtesan dress to her. She looked at the dress and then looked at him, raising a brow.

"You do not want to walk around in that bloody thing, do you? People would treat you like a walking plague."

The assassin pointed to her attire and she couldn't help but agree. Ripped, slashed, bloodied, soiled; from the drastic chase to the guard's death, the dress was beyond saving.  _Pity, this one was one of my favorites…_

"However, you could just go without clothes…"

Fiora quickly snatched the dress before she allowed the assassin to further his fantasy.

"How did you acquire this? Did you seduce a poor girl right out of it?" she questioned, holding the clothing out to take a better look.

The assassin's only reply was a smirk.  Fiora was itching to smack it off his face.

"Will you be needing assistance,  _Madonna_?" the assassin asked, holding out his hand in offering.

Fiora simply looked at him and he chuckled, backing away and then turned to the  _dottore_.

"Shall we discuss payment outside,  _signore_?"

"Indeed, we shall."

As soon as the door closed behind the two men, Fiora was instantly in action. Gingerly, she rose to her feet, hissing at the acute pain that shot up her legs. But she did not have time to think about her feet; she needed to get away from the assassin. With skill that came only from her trade, Fiora was undressed and dressed in less than minutes. She limped to the door and held an ear to it. A lower tone, the assassin, and a higher tone, the  _dottore_ , were still conversing. Good, let that assassin pay for her treatment, he was the one that got her into this mess to begin with. Glancing down, Fiora noticed a pair of boots, probably for use when the  _dottore_  wasn't dressed in his uniform. Grabbing more bandages, Fiora stuffed them at the bottom of the boots and slipped her legs into them. They were comically large, bulging far from her calves but they would do. Plodding over to the only way of escape, a window on the opposite wall of the door, Fiora carefully slipped her fingers beneath the frame and lifted the window as quietly as possible. Once safely on the other side of the window, she trod to the corner of the building and peeked around. The  _dottore_ and assassin were nowhere to be seen. Taking no time to celebrate her success, the ex-courtesan quickly slipped into the evening crowd and became one of the masses.

After many looks over her shoulder and quick shortcuts, Fiora made it undetected and tail free to her home. Usually, she would simply climb through her window but her poor feet stopped any thought of that. Walking to the back of the building, she reached into the unlit torch next to the back door and let herself in. Limping up the stairs and to her room, she collapsed heavily onto her couch and let out a great sigh. As she lay, Fiora easily concluded that she had not had a day quite as horrible as today in a long time. Threatened, almost molested, caught with an assassin, killing a guard, wounded, a doctor's visit, a quick escape; a most dreadful day indeed. Shaking the boots off her feet, Fiora sat up to peer down at her wounds. Unfortunately, the bandages had soaked through but only a little, not as awful as she had imagined they would be. Walking delicately over to an adjacent room that was her washroom, Fiora found her bath filled with cold water left over from the bath she had not taken last night.  Shrugging, she nearly ripped the courtesan dress off of her in her haste to clean herself. Careful to keep her bandaged feet above the water, she descended into the cold water and sighed.

Despite the cold water, Fiora could have easily spent all night in the tub. The water brought comfort to her exhausted state until her body finally began to shiver as the day cooled into the night.  Awkwardly pulling herself out of the tub, still desperate to keep her feet dry, she toweled herself and pulled on a silk robe, exiting the washroom.

"You really thought you could escape me again,  _Madonna?_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a story that is also on my fanfiction account. I am combining some chapters that were originally separate to make longer chapters. Enjoy! And please leave a comment! I love to read them :)


	3. Death by Silence

Fiora froze, her hand stilled on the door handle. Her senses instantly were hyper-aware: her damp hair sending sparse droplets of water to the floor, her robe tied much too loose, the sky outside was slowly fading from twilight to evening, and the Master Assassin Ezio Auditore was lounging on her couch, in  _her_  room, in  _her_ house. The window was open, the curtains fluttering; this was obviously his way of entry. Fiora never locked it but now seriously considered changing that habit.

_How did he find me?_

Then fear turned to understanding.

"You let me escape."

His smirk was all she needed for an answer. Her supposed success in fleeing the assassin and the severity of her wounds had diminished her usual paranoia. Though she had seen and heard no follow from him, that didn't mean he had not been there. Fiora had been bested and that rarely happened.

"Well, from our last encounter, I know you to be a sly one," Ezio replied, casually removing his hood.

The growing moonlight revealed his complete countenance to Fiora for the first time. And it  _was_  something to look at; strong jaw, dark scruff, a stern brow, long deep brown hair tied at the nape of his neck and piercing golden eyes.  _Deadly and handsome._

Ezio sunk more comfortably into her sofa, his arms draped over the back in complete relaxation. Anger rose in Fiora at his confidence. So he thought he knew her, did he? That she could be so easily tricked? Fiora relaxed her grip on the door handle and slowly closed the door, never taking her eyes away from her intruder. As she moved away from the washroom and towards Ezio, the assassin's eyes flickered down her body.

_Now_ _there_ _is something I can use_.

Her loosely tied robe draped over her body and showed just enough to brings his eyes back down to her bare legs and barely covered breasts. The assassin, under all his mystery, power, weapons, and armor, was still but a man.  _Pathetic._

"I am more than just sly,  _Signore Auditore_ ," Fiora purred as she sauntered towards the assassin to stop right in front of him, her legs between his.

"I am starting to see that,  _Madonna_ ," he hummed, his eyes gracing her legs and continuing their way up to her face.

"But why would a man of your stature be chasing after me?" she asked, playing with the sash of her robe. His golden eyes could not resist looking back down.

"Like you said,  _Fiora,_ I can see that there is more to you. No matter how  _pleasurable_  you are to the eyes," the assassin responded and his eyes flashed with challenge.

"Right you are,  _Auditore."_

Fiora slowly straddled the assassin and watched both surprise and pleasure cross his handsome features. The pleasure didn't last long, however, as Ezio soon found one of his own knives pressed to his throat.

"I am also not accommodating to intruders," whispered Fiora, flirtation mixed with a threat.

"Come now,  _Fiora_ , I hardly classify as an intruder. I've stopped men from killing you twice now. If anything," Ezio's voice lowered to a husky whisper as he leaned toward her face, pushing against her blade in defiance, "I am your personal savior."

"Please! I could have easily slain those men myself. But someone needed to make himself feel important."

"Well… shall we see how truly skilled you are then?"

A struggle quickly ensued. Fiora found herself flying backward and landing hard on her back on the floor, Ezio's knife flying from her hand. Ezio leaped from the couch to pounce but she rolled backward, sending a well-aimed foot to the assassin's face at the same time. As Ezio faltered from the surprise foot attack, Fiora dashed for her hand fan lying on the table only to have her hand caught inches away from it. Her other hand swung for another attack on the assassin's face but he was ready this time. With both wrists in Ezio's merciless grasp, he swung Fiora around to pin her to the wall. But before the assassin could close in, Fiora raised her knee and found her mark in Ezio's stomach. Ezio doubled over as Fiora ripped her hands from his grasp and ducked away, scrambling and lunging for the knife she previously held. An iron grip found her ankle and Fiora fell short of the knife. The same iron grip seized her shoulder, flipped her onto her back and now Ezio was the one doing the straddling. As a last attempt, Fiora shot a fist for his handsome face to no avail and the fight ended with both her wrists restrained and pinned to the floor.

"I think me on top means I win."

Fiora was breathless from both the struggle and the dread growing in her heart. Here she was, trapped in the  _Maestro_ of the assassin's hold and unable to save herself. And he had no idea who his prisoner was.

"Do you feel pride in incapacitating an injured woman?" Fiora cursed as she struggled against him.

"Come now, you being injured did not affect your fighting at all."

This was both a true and false. As she began the fight she felt nothing. As the fight continued and she lunged for the knife, Fiora felt a sharp pain in her foot and knew she made her wounds worse.

"Plus, I watched you run through the streets without any regard for your feet."

"You are lucky I am not at my full strength,  _assassino_ ," Fiora hissed and watched Ezio's face grow stern at his title.

"Yes, I know what you are, Auditore _._  Death follows your kind like a foul stench."

"I do not kill for sport,  _courtesan_ , if that is what you imply," Ezio growled, the charm and humor absent. Again, Fiora saw the stark difference between Ezio Auditore and the Master Assassin.

"Then all your killing is justified, is it? Never once did you kill because you enjoyed it? Desired it?"

Ezio's eyebrows furrowed.

"You  _assassini_  kill only for yourselves and make others pick up the mess you leave behind," taunted Fiora, watching Ezio's eyes grow more deadly with her every word.

It probably was not a good idea to test a master assassin but Fiora was looking for anything that she could use against him. Just because he won the physical battle did not mean that Fiora was done fighting.

"You know nothing," replied Ezio, his voice calm but cold. He released her wrists only to continue hovering over her. Though her hands were free for fighting, Fiora did not dare move.

"I have seen the man you proclaim to call 'his holiness' hang innocent men and a child for his own gain. If his work is more honorable than mine, then you have a skewed idea of what is good in the world."

Fiora remained silent, captivated by the depth and pain that emanated from Ezio's eyes. For an assassin, Ezio displayed a wide array of emotions quite openly. She expected the  _Maestro_ of the assassins to be crueler and less human _._  But Fiora could not deny that the Borgia family was cruel and ill-tempered, for that in part was the reason she served them. In her younger years, Fiora was attracted to power and made friends with people who had it. It was the only way she could leave the brothel. But as she looked into Ezio's pained eyes, she saw a man affected by the same family that now controlled her life.  _I know this pain._

Fiora noticed there was blood on Ezio's face. Had she injured him? She raised a hand and brushed his cheek with her thumb to remove the stain. However, there was no wound revealed. Ezio was taken aback by the Fiora's soft touch but when he saw the blood on her hands, he glanced behind him.

" _Mi dispiace_ , Fiora. Your feet."

Ezio removed himself and Fiora looked down to see yet another pool of her own blood.

"I guess you were right about your injuries."

"Did you think I was lying?" Fiora groaned as she lifted herself to sitting and checking her wounds.

"Allow me."

The second time that day, Fiora found herself at the mercy of Ezio as he carried her back to her sofa. Before she could protest, Ezio walked back into the washroom to emerge with a bowl of water and more bandages.

"Where did you find bandages?" asked Fiora, knowing she had none of her own.

"I brought extra from the  _dottore_. He thought you might need more."

"How thoughtful," she growled. Did everyone think she was accident-prone?

"Auditore, really," Fiora protested as Ezio kneeled before her, setting aside both bowl and bandages to reach for her feet, "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Of that, I am quite sure, Fiora. And please, call me Ezio. It is partially my fault that your wounds have reopened. Therefore, it is my duty to help you. And let's be honest, you're helpless without me."

A small smirk returned to Ezio's face and Fiora rolled her eyes.

Silence sat between the ex-courtesan and the  _assassin_ o as Ezio put the last bandages on Fiora's feet. She grabbed another slice of bread from her side table and focused on eating to ignore the gentle caresses of war-hardened hands. All Fiora wanted was to go to bed and forget this night had happened. An association with an assassin was the last thing she needed for Cesare to find out.  _Hopefully, I will never have to see him again._

"So you know of us assassins," Ezio said, as he tied the last bandage.

"How can I not?" Fiora replied, biting into another slice of bread. "With all your stealth, your deeds are very public."

A small smirk rose on Ezio's features but he said nothing more.

"There, finished."

Looking at her now bandaged feet, Fiora was satisfied with Ezio's work. It was obvious this was not his first time with treating wounds.

"Impressive. Perhaps you should consider a profession as a  _dottore_  instead of an assassin."

"Oh no, bandages I can do. But the syringes," Ezio cringed, rolling his sleeves back down to replace his arm braces.

"Careful. You're giving away your weaknesses," Fiora teased as she began to rise from the sofa. Ezio jumped up.

"Whoa! How about we not ruin my handiwork, ya?" Ezio cautioned, easing her back down to the sofa.

"I am tired. I want my bed and I want you to leave," sighed Fiora, rubbing her temples.

"So much for gratitude," scoffed Ezio as he pulled Fiora into his arms and walked her to her bed located behind her sofa.

"I'm also very tired of you carrying me around like a doll."

"'Thank you so much, Ezio, for rescuing me and caring for my wounds.' Is it that hard?" mocked Ezio.

"I do not want to make your ego larger than it already is."

"It's not the only part of me that is large," teased Ezio as he lowered her onto the bed. Fiora half laughed and half scoffed as she shoved his arms away.

"You are finished. Leave."

Ezio remained unfazed by her foul mood and chuckled. He made his way to the window but stopped, stooped down and returned back to her side.  _What does he want now?_

"Here. Just in case."

It was his own knife that Fiora had used to previously threaten him. Ezio set it down on the side table and smiled at her scowl. Walking to the window, he put one leg over the window seal and turned back to her.

"Oh, Fiora? Try not to get into any more trouble tomorrow. Or I'll have to come rescue you."

Fiora reached for the assassin's knife and flung it in Ezio's direction. But he was gone before the knife struck the window frame.

Fiora was reciting dark curses upon Ezio's head as she gingerly made her way to Baltasar's hideout. Her feet were still extremely tender but work demanded she be about in the city. Yesterday's events played in Fiora's head again and she could not help but quietly groan. Did Cesare know that she had killed his guards or would this event pass unnoticed? Either way, Ezio's involvement in her life was problematic.

As Fiora turned into an alleyway, she heard the sound of blades crashing together and slowed to peer around the corner to the back of the building. There she found Baltasar training with Il Lupo, a dangerous dance of blades. Il Lupo was a product of both Baltasar and Fiora. Baltasar had been tasked by Cesare to follow the assassins' movement and learn everything he could about them. Fiora would often join him on his observations. Il Lupo was the result of everything she and Baltasar learned about the white-hooded assassin's. They trained Il Lupo to move, fight, and flee like an assassin. Cesare's engineers even crafted a crude replica of the infamous hidden blade. But there was still much they did not know and Il Lupo was still very young in training and age, barely in his twenties. It would take more time for Il Lupo to reach any level close to the best assassins.

Fiora continued to watch as Il Lupo disarmed Baltasar and pounced, flying in a much similar form to the assassins as they killed their prey from above. Unsheathing her fan and flicking it open, Fiora crept forward behind Il Lupo.

"Well done, Lupo. You are improving. It did not take you as long to disarm me this time," said Baltasar, as he breathed heavily.

His eyes flicked behind Il Lupo and saw Fiora standing over him.

"Or maybe you are getting slower," gloated Il Lupo, unaware of his towering predator.

Fiora placed her fan on the back of Il Lupo's neck and watched his body tense.

"You still have much to learn,  _ragazzo_."

Il Lupo sighed and turned to see his attacker, her fan now at his throat

"Always be alert. These  _assassini_  will take advantage of any weakness."

"Yes, Fiora," replied Il Lupo, frustration evident in his voice.

Fiora lowered her fan and Il Lupo removed himself from Baltasar, holding out a helping hand to the defeated barber.

"But Baltasar is right, your combat skills are improving, Lupo," Fiora observed, nodding at Baltasar in greeting.

"How about you and I, then?" prompted Il Lupo, his eyes gleaming with the chance to redeem himself.

"Unfortunately, we have other matters to attend to," said Fiora, handing a folded memo to Baltasar to read.

"Cesare wants to meet with us," read Baltasar, handing the note to Il Lupo.

"He has assignments."

"Finally, something to do! I am tired of sparing with you, old man," Il Lupo teased and handed the memo back to Fiora.

Baltasar ignored the young man and focused his beady eyes on Fiora.

"You look like you had a long night," said Baltasar, walking down the alley with Fiora at his side and Il Lupo trailing behind.

"You should consider not having a man in your bed every night," Baltasar's monotone drawl heavy with accusation.

"Why do you assume it was a man keeping me up?" Fiora swiped an apple from a cart and flipped a single coin at the vendor.

"Well, you are a whore, are you not?" quipped Il Lupo, also grabbing an apple but not paying.

"You both know those days are behind me. Stop accusing me of past deeds."

They crossed the bridge into Castel Sant'Angelo and the masses of common people were replaced with heavily armored guards. Fiora knew these fortress grounds well from her constant visits to Cesare for instruction. As they entered, one of the many guards eyed Fiora and winked.

"Once a whore, always a whore," said Baltasar as they followed the winding maze of halls deeper into the fort.

"At least people enjoy my presence," taunted Fiora as they approached their ended destination.

"They enjoy your  _figa_."

" _Fottiti_."

Baltasar and Fiora glared at each other but couldn't help small smirks growing on their faces. Though they often disagreed and tended to dislike each other, they enjoyed sassy banter.

"You two banter like a married couple," said Il Lupo, pushing past them and opening the door to Cesare's study.

Quiet chatter and a small crowd of people greeted them as they entered Cesare's study. To Fiora's discomfort, Il Carnefice was present and looking as bloodied as every. He must have had a fresh kill this morning. Lia de Russo the smuggler was also there sitting in a chair next to the fire, her feet propped up on a table. She was a strange woman. She mainly supplied Cesare with artifacts, both useless and rare items. Fiora often visited Lia's warehouses to retrieve these items for Cesare and the warehouses always smelt like death.

"The barber, the boy, and the whore," Lia sneered, "about time."

"Your insults mean nothing," Fiora said, walking up to Cesare's desk and sitting on the edge.

"Fiora, my desk is not a chair," said Cesare, as he signed his last document.

"And I assume your table is also not a footstool," said Fiora, pointedly looking at Lia's feet who scowled back but moved her feet to the ground.

"Enough. Let's begin," Cesare barked, tossing his quill and standing.

Fiora slid off his desk and stood next to Il Lupo, who both had respect and fear in his eyes as he focused on Cesare.

"I have gathered you all here today because all of you are among my most trusted agents. All of you are key in achieving our goal of uniting Italia and ruling this country."

_Since when did my goals become his? What did I want with a united Italia?_

As Cesare spoke, he paced in front of them and with each word his voice rang with more and more bravado. Fiora once admired him for his strength and pride. But then she learned at what price such confidence must come by.

"My spies have officially confirmed our suspicions of Ezio Auditore being in Roma. He is already beginning to amass a force against us,' Cesare continued, still pacing slowly.

Fiora avoided eye contact at the mention of Ezio. She obviously did not need spies to tell her of Ezio's existence but it should have been her who had informed Cesare, not his talentless spies. Yet, Fiora felt no need to tell Cesare of her dealings with Ezio and planned to keep it that way. Hopefully, any future encounters with Ezio would result in his death and her victory. Fiora snapped out of her thoughts as Cesare began to speak again.

"Thus, with Auditore here, we need to move more quickly," said Cesare, finally ceasing his pacing to stand right in front of Fiora.

Fiora stared fearlessly into his black eyes, she knew a scolding was in store.

"Fiora, in order for me to defeat Auditore, will stand by me?"

_Odd question._

"Of course, Cesare."

"Then why do my men keep dying at your hands?"

Fiora did not dare look away. If she showed any signs of weakness or fear, Cesare would destroy her.

"What are you referring to?" Fiora stalled.

"I'm referring to you killing Il Carnefice's guards and leaving him unprotected."

"Il Carnefice is perfectly capable of defending himself," replied Fiora, shooting a glare at the somber executioner.

"It is not my fault that he encouraged his men to actively rape me. I warned the guard but he did not listen."

"But there was more than one guard that laid dead in streets."

Fiora hesitated and Cesare raised an eyebrow.

"I was protecting a friend."

Cesare's hand shot out and stuck Fiora hard across the face. Fiora let no cry escape her lips and did not dare raise a hand to her cheek. He cheek stung acutely and she glanced at Cesare's offending hand. Blood was on his ring, evidence that not only was there going to be a bruise but a wound as well.

"You were protecting a useless  _puttana_. I care more for my skilled men than those  _puttane_ on the streets," Cesare's face was closing in with each word he spoke, his voice lowering to a harsh whisper.

"I will not tolerate this behavior again, understand? Next time I hear of this, your punishment will be more severe."

Fiora nodded but remained silent. Anger mixed with embarrassment bubbled slowly inside of Fiora. No one else in the room spoke but she knew Lia and Il Carnefice were smirking with malevolence. Lupo and Baltasar held expressionless faces, except she could see the worry in Lupo's eyes.

"Now, back to business," said Cesare, walking back to his desk as if his little tirade never existed.

"Next week, I plan to throw a celebration for my cousin, Juan Borgia. Until then, I have business that must be carried out before that time."

Cesare grabbed documents and began shuffling the papers.

"Lia, Lupo, I have contracts that must be completed before the party."

Lia bounded out of her chair and snatched the papers, her eyes thirsty for her next kill. Lupo took his assignments and without looking at them, turned to exit. As Lupo passed Fiora, he gave her a pointed look and then left. He wanted to meet later to talk.

_So young and protective. Soon he'll learn that will get him nowhere in this godforsaken place._

"Il Carnefice, there is a particular district that is beginning to bring bad business. Eliminate these resistors and put new vendors in place," Cesare ordered and handed him his assignment.

"Yes, Cesare," Il Carnefice bowed and turned to leave. As he passed Fiora, a mean glint in his eye made Fiora scowl at his passing.  _Curse that man._

"Baltasar, I need more information on the  _assassini_  and Auditore. Find their hideouts and try to gauge their numbers."

Baltasar nodded and left, leaving Fiora alone with Cesare.

"Fiora, you remember Slivestro Sabbatini, yes?" Cesare asked, as he reached into a desk drawer and pulled a cloth wrapped object.

"How could I forget that slimy excuse for a noble?" Fiora jested, taking the wrapped object.

Fiora couldn't help her curiosity and unwrapped the package. Inside was a menacing claw, sharp and deadly. Silvestro had once previously served Cesare and failed to complete a mission. His punishment was relieving him of his left arm and this claw must be Cesare's peace treaty

"Give that to him and tell him I demand his service and his allegiance."

Fiora raised an eyebrow.

"You are going to trust him again? Are you feeling unwell, Cesare? You're starting to get soft."

Cesare scowled. "I need his slave trade. Once I have it, he is expendable."

"Is he? Once his trade is secure, how will you know that his contacts will stay loyal to you and not Silvestro?"

"People are loyal to money," replied Cesare, a dark smile on his lips.

"We shall see," Fiora muttered, turning to leave.

"I have one more assignment for you. Make the usual delivery to Brother Ristoro tonight."

Fiora frowned. Cesare still kept that man whore around?

"Or if you are feeling bored, satisfy him yourself," mocked Cesare, as he walked around to face her.

"I have better things to do than sleep around with disgusting men like Ristoro."

Cesare raised his hand and ran a thumb under the cut he inflicted. It was not a gentle gesture; he was admiring his handiwork. Fiora resisted the urge to slap away his hand.

"Fiora, I value you. You have been one of my most loyal assets. But do not forget that your life belongs to me. If I order you to sleep with a man, you sleep with him. Therefore, you are a whore as long as I say you are a whore,  _capisci_?" he said, his eyes shining with warning.

"Yes, Cesare." Fiora tried hard to keep her face emotionless despite the fiery frustration rising inside her.

"Good."

Cesare removed his hand and moved back to his desk.

"Luckily for you, I do not think bedding Brother Ristoro will be necessary. Complete the tasks I have given you and visit me once you're done."

" _Capito_ ," mumbled Fiora, already out the door.

_Bastardo._

_\------------_

The sky was beginning to darken and the streets were alive with activity as Fiora weaved her way towards the Rosa in Fiore  _bordello._  Silvestro's visit went well despite the fact he complained the metal claw was not properly adorned with jewels or decorations. Fiora threatened to take it away at that point, not in the mood to deal with his petty attitude. But Silvestro took it and immediately applied it to his stump. The gesture confirmed the slave trade now belonged to Cesare.

A slight breeze picked up in the streets, persuading dresses and cloaks to dance in the air. The gentle wind caressed Fiora's face and would have been relaxing had the wind not caused her cheek to sting, a rude reminder of Cesare's scolding. Fiora hated how small she felt around Cesare. Originally, this feeling of powerlessness was what attracted her to him. She rationalized that if she felt powerless than he must be powerful. However, Fiora quickly learned over the years that Cesare's power came from controlling others and not from himself. Her thoughts returned to Ezio as she approached an all too familiar door. He was a man who held power; Fiora had felt it as she scuffled with him in her bedroom. Had he wanted to, Ezio could have easily ended her life but he wasn't cruel like Cesare. Perhaps this stark difference between the master assassin and the master Templar was why she did not tell Cesare of her encounters with Ezio.

Fiora swung the door to the  _bordello_ open and stopped. Confusion grew in Fiora as she gazed around the building she once called home. The  _bordello_  was significantly different than she last remembered. Fiora had spent many years in Rosa in Fiore and it was never kept in good condition. Often measures were taken to merely mask the filth and disorganization of her boss, Madame Solari. However, the incense now was not nearly as intoxicating, the girls were not dressed in rags and the actual building was clean and beautifully adorned in rich colors of red and purple. This sudden change was not Madame Solari's doing. Something else prompted this new atmosphere. As Fiora approached the counter, she found an unfamiliar woman writing in the record books.

" _Buona sera,_ madame _."_

The woman did not look up from her books at Fiora's voice and continued to write as she replied.

" _Buona sera, signora,_  how may I help you?"

"You are not Madame Solari," said Fiora, ignoring the question and casually leaning against the counter.

The woman looked up and Fiora had a strange sense of familiarity, yet she knew she had never met this woman. Why did she find this woman familiar? Had be met her before?

"You are correct. MadameSolari has unfortunately been relieved from her position."

"You mean she is dead," Fiora deadpanned, reaching out to stroke the roses on the counter. That was what Fiora loved most about Rosa in Fiore; there was never a shortage of beautiful flowers. In the corner of her eye, Fiora watched the woman's eyes narrow as she placed her quill down.

_Now I have her attention._

"I knew Madame Solari. She would not have given this  _bordello_ up simply because she was bored. Death would be the only way Madame Solari would release this place from her greedy clutches," Fiora said absent-mindedly, gazing around at the luxurious room.

"You do not have a glowing opinion of Madame Solari," the woman observed, closing her books and walking around the counter.

"Well, when you work under someone for many years, you see their ugly side," sighed Fiora.

"You were one of her girls?"

"Yes. I was gratefully able to leave this place a long time ago."

"I would say I am sorry to tell you she is in fact dead. However, I think you will not shed a tear for her passing."

Fiora chuckled at the woman's comment. The woman was right, Fiora did not mourn Madame Solari's death but Cesare would not be pleased to learn of his favorite  _bordello_ no longer being under his control. Solari had always been too greedy and to infatuated with Cesare to deny him any request. Fiora had a feeling this woman would not be so accommodating.

As the woman approached, Fiora held out a hand.

"Fiora Cavazza."

"Claudia Auditore, at your service," the woman replied, accepting Fiora's outstretched hand.

Fiora's head cocked in surprise and then she smirked. The familiarity that Fiora felt with Claudia before was no illusion. It was her eyes. Those eyes belonged to Ezio as well.

"Auditore, eh? Any relation to Ezio Auditore?"

It was Claudia's turn to stiffen in surprise. A dark, suspicious look crossed her face.

"How do you know my brother?"

"I've met him once or twice. His ego leaves a lasting impression."

Claudia's suspicion turned to amusement as a small smirk reached her lips.

"Oh no, please tell me he did not try to make you a new conquest?"

Fiora couldn't help but laugh.

"Trust me, Madame Claudia, the last thing I want to be is another notch on your brother's bedpost."

Claudia laughed as well.

"Then Ezio must have been very disappointed."

"You could say that."

The two woman shared a smile and Fiora instantly decided she liked Claudia. Too bad they were on opposite sides of a war.

"I'm guessing you did not come here to talk about Ezio," Claudia remarked, returning to behind the counter.

"You are correct. I was wondering if I could borrow a few of your girls for the night."

Claudia flipped her books open and ran a finger down a page.

"For what purpose? I have two girls, Bruna and Gina, I can employ."

"I am surprising a friend of mine. It is his birthday and has been much too long since he has enjoyed the company of women," Fiora answered, the lie rolling easily off her tongue.

"I assume you have payment."

" _Si."_

Claudia scratched away in the record book as Fiora dropped a heavy bag of coins onto the counter.

"Alright, I will return momentarily with the girls."

Claudia moved away from the counter and ascended the stairs with quickness. Scrutinizing Claudia's movements, Fiora assessed she was not an  _assassino_  like her brother. Claudia lacked the subtle grace her brother possessed.

"Fiora?"

Looking to the door, Fiora found one of the few people she trusted in Roma.

"Amita!"

Fiora quickly walked to her good friend and embraced her. Amita was young when she was brought to Rosa in Fiore to work, not but sixteen. Fiora took her under her wing and taught her everything she knew to protect the young girl from the darkness of the outside world. Her hope was that Amita would live a better life than her. As Fiora pulled away, she saw a strong, beautiful woman with rich red hair and porcelain skin. Amita was no longer the poor defenseless girl of Fiora's memory.

"Fiora, why has it taken so long for you to visit me? It's been months!" Amita attempted to scold but Fiora could never take her seriously. "I've had only Massimo to keep me up to date and we both know he is horrible about relaying information."

"Very true, he hardly tells me what he does. And I am his sister," laughed Fiora, crossing the room with Amita and finding a seat on an unoccupied bench under the staircase.

Massimo was Fiora's little brother and was absolutely smitten for Amita. Fiora could remember the first time she introduced Amita to him and still could recall the deep shade of red that engulfed his face. With the mention of her brother, Fiora realized it had been many weeks since she last visited Massimo. She made a mental note to visit him tomorrow.

"Forgive me, Amita. But you know how I do not like this place. Too many memories and not all of them good," Fiora sighed.

"But did you hear? Madame Solari is dead."

"Yes. I was just in conversation with your new mistress before you walked in."

Amita suddenly looked very uncomfortable and glanced around to see if anyone was listening. There were girls and clients present in the large foyer but most of them were too preoccupied with each other to notice the two women chatting in the corner.

"Fiora, you must be careful coming here," whispered Amita, still glancing around the room.

"I know, Amita. This  _bordello_ is under the control of the  _assassini_ ," Fiora replied, keeping her ears open for Claudia's return.

Amita looked surprised.

"How do you know?"

"Let's just say I know Claudia's brother."

"You've met Ezio?!"

Fiora shook her head and replied," Unfortunately."

"Fiora, he comes here often and speaks with Claudia and his mother-"

"Wait, his mother is here too?"

"Yes!" Amita answered, checking her surrounds once more.

"They both run the  _bordello_?" probed Fiora, worry starting to rise in her stomach again.

"Yes. After Madame Solari was taken and killed, Claudia and her mother, Maria, took over the  _bordello_. However, Ezio is not fond of Claudia being the Madame and has been very cross with her."

"He probably doesn't like the idea of his  _sorellina_  being the mistress of  _putanne_ ," scoffed Fiora, her leg beginning to bounce repeatedly to ease her discomfort.

"Hey! Watch who you're calling  _puttana_ ," Amita once again tried to appear cross but quickly couldn't resist smiling with Fiora.

"But in all seriousness, you must be careful in coming here. If they know your connection to Cesare, they will not hesitate to eliminate you," whispered Amita, the worry thick in her voice.

Fiora's sour mood returned suddenly but she was very grateful for Amita's loyalty. Amita knew the people Fiora associated with; they had both been present when Cesare first walked into the  _bordello_. Though Amita did not agree with Fiora's choice of life and disliked Cesare immensely, their friendship came first and Amita would do anything to help her just as Fiora had done for her in the past. Thus, with Amita's warning, Fiora realized she would have to purchase courtesans for Brother Ristoro at other  _bordellos_ from now on.

"Why are you here anyway, Fiora? It has been a long time since you last visited Rosa in Fiore," questioned Amita.

"Brother Ristoro's appetite is insatiable," Fiora mumbled, standing and beginning to pace in front of Amita.

"Cesare still delivers to that foul man?" Amita's face twisted into disgust.

"If I had a say, that man would be run out of Roma but my opinion matters little to Cesare."

Fiora stopped in her pacing when she heard footsteps coming back down the stairs.

" _Signora_ Fiora?" Claudia called out, unable to see Fiora underneath the stairs.

"Madame Claudia," responded Fiora, moving into sight with Amita not far behind.

"Here is Bruna and Gina," said Claudia and the two girls next to her bowed their heads in greeting.

"Thank you, Claudia," Fiora nodding her head in thanks and gesturing for the girls to follow.

"Amita, I will see you soon, yes?"

Amita smiled and Claudia glanced between the two with curiosity.

"Yes, don't be a stranger!"

Fiora chuckled and waved her off as she exited the  _bordello_  with the courtesans.

_Something is wrong._

Fiora and the girls were approaching the church that Brother Ristoro resided but she suddenly stopped. It was much too quiet. There was no movement on the roofs or the ground where the guards usually patrolled. The street itself was empty and chill hung in the air.

"Is everything all right?" the girl named Gina asked, the boredom in her voice evident.

"No," replied Fiora, making both the girls look at her in confusion and fear.

"Stay here."

Fiora approached the church cautiously and noticed there was a dark mass on the ground next to the door. She did not need to get closer to know it was a body.

"Leave," Fiora called out to the girls, "It is not safe here. Return to the  _bordello_  and keep the money."

The girls were confused but did not need to be told twice to leave. Once the courtesans were out of sight, Fiora crept to the door and stepped over the guard's body. She took a moment to touch the guard's cheek and was met with warmth; the kill was recent. The door was ajar but no light shown through. Fiora slipped through the opening, careful to not make the door creak and make her presence known. Fiora silently made her way around the halls when a frightened cry ripped the air. Quickening her steps she peered around the corner into the courtyard of the church. There she saw more bodies but that was not what made her heart rate increase. It was the figure dressed in white, crouching over Ristoro and removing their hidden blade from his neck that caused the fear to pound in her ears.

" _Requiescat in pace_."

_Merda._

It was Ezio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who know her story, I am taking certain liberties with Fiora's story to blend it better with Ezio's timeline in AC: Brotherhood.


	4. Dinner Date

Fiora swiftly retreated behind the corner resisting the shock that threatened to seize her heart. Ristoro was dead and along with all other souls in this blasphemous church. But her shock quickly turned into annoyance. The priest was infamous for his blasphemy against the Catholic church and his lecherous activities. Even his connection and loyalty to Cesare was no secret. Truthfully, Ristoro brought his death upon himself from his careless attitude. But how did Auditore find him? Was the master assassin aware that this man was one of his precious Creed's enemies? Or was the kill from moral conscience? Whatever the motive of the master assassin may be, Fiora could already in her mind's eye see Cesare's furious tantrum. The master Templar did not take the loss of his assets lightly. No one dared hinder his plans. Save Ezio.

The sound of boots on stone echoed through the courtyard and drew closer to Fiora's hiding spot.  _Cazzo!_  Wildly looking for a hiding spot, Fiora spotted a small alcove further down the hall. Quickly creeping down the hall, Fiora hastily dove into the alcove before she became the assassin's next victim. The footsteps continued to grow louder and soon Ezio's looming figure passed her hiding spot, the shadows of the church turning him into less of a man and more of a demon. For the first time, Fiora truly felt fear for this man. She finally understood why her Templar associates called him the devil. Auditore existed for the sole purpose of ending lives and his body radiated danger.

Fiora held her breathe, shrinking more into the shadow of the alcove. There was no sign, no pause in his step that indicated he knew she was there as the assassin exited the church. She remained still for several more seconds before slipping from her hiding place and moving to the door. The shadows cast by the high moon swallowed Ezio like the arms of a welcoming friend as he swiftly moved down the street.  _Do I follow?_  Fiora glanced in the direction of the dead priest in the courtyard. She ran back to Ristoro and crouched over his broken body. His eyes still held wild panic with his mouth open wide in a silent scream. A slight feeling of envy crept into her body. Ristoro had been a usual customer for her at the Rosa in Fiore when she worked there. During those times when she had to endure the perverted priest's antics, this was the fate she often daydreamed for the wretched man. But Ezio was the one who had the pleasure of ending this miserable man's life. Reaching forward, Fiora ripped the now bloodied crucifix from Ristoro's neck and pocked the amulet. Rushing out of the church, the ex-courtesan watched the tips of Ezio's robes disappear around the corner of a building. Curiosity rising within her, Fiora quickly ran down the street and peered around the corner before continuing her pursuit of the dangerous assassin.

* * *

After what felt like hours of dodging backward glances, blending with rambunctious crowds and navigating her way through the lively streets of Roma, Fiora shadowed the hooded assassin to a building named the La Volpe Addoramentata. Eyes furrowed, Fiora knew this old tattered building had been but a skeleton of an old inn not two weeks ago. However, currently the building was full of life, the sound of laughter and the clink of drinks echoing down the street.  _Since when did this ragged inn sprout to life?_ The ex-courtesan leaned against a tree next to a chatting group of women as she watched the hooded assassin duck into the inn. Fiora was wary of putting herself in the same small building as the assassin. Remaining inconspicuous would be much more difficult and staying alive even more so. Fiora's eyes fell on a young man of at least eighteen dressed in poor attire, leaning against the doorframe with a tankard in hand, joking with his friends and looking highly inebriated. Fiora smirked.  _Perhaps being less inconspicuous is what I need._ Killing was Auditore's forte just as Fiora's was seduction and deception. The presence of a heavily armed man would draw attention in an inn but no one would question the presence of a courtesan. A plan formulated in her head as pushed away from the tree and slowly approached her new drunken prey.

" _Buona sera, signore_ ," Fiora cooed, fully unleashing her charm. The boy's laughing face turned from his friends and fell into awe, blushing furiously.

" _M-m-madonna_ ," the boy spluttered, stumbling into a slopping bow and spilling most of the contents of his tankard on the steps of the inn. His friends laughed at his efforts.

"Well aren't you a cute puppy?" Fiora leaned close and drifted a finger over his fair-skinned cheek. If possible, the boy's eyes widened further and the tankard was in danger of being dropped entirely.

"I am in desperate need of drink and company. Care to join me inside?"

The boy nodded his head vigorously; he was completely under Fiora's spell. She smirked and linked her arm with the poor boy, his friends cheering him on as they entered the inn. The La Volpe Addoramentata's shabby outside did not reflect its interior. Richly decorated, drapes and banners of green hung around the room and the lighting was warm and low, inviting relaxation. The inn was surprisingly packed and the hum of chatter and laughter created a comfortable atmosphere. Fiora's eyes raked over the people, seeing both poor and middle class mingle along with the presence of courtesans. A ruckus of cheering and shouting erupted from one corner and Fiora spied dice and money on the floor. No inn was without gambling.

"Two drinks,  _amico_ ," Fiora ordered from the bartender, who nodded and disappeared. She helped the blushing and inebriated boy to a seat beside her and scanned the crowd behind him.  _Now, where did you disappear to, assassino?_

"What is your name, puppy?" Fiora questioned, eyes flicking between the boy and the rest of the inn.

"Filippo,  _Madonna_ ," the boy whispered, snatching the tankard the barman dropped on the counter and taking a deep swig. Fiora was surprised to be handed a glass of wine and sent a questioning glance at the barman. He simply winked and then hurried to help his next customer.

"Filippo? May I ask what you do for a living?" Fiora's hand reached out to rest on the boy's forearm.

The boy seemed to grow more nervous but with his liquid courage in hand, he gathered some sense of pride behind his eyes. Shifting his gaze around the inn, the boy leaned in close to Fiora, as if he was afraid of being overheard. The boy's sudden mood change was curious and had Fiora's full attention.

"I am a courier to most people but to others," the boy glanced around again and a small confident smile grew, "I am a skilled thief."

"A thief? How cunning," Fiora purred, taking a sip of her own wine as the boy's face flushed from her compliment. "You must have interesting tales to share."

"Si,  _signora_ , I do."

That was enough for the boy to recount all of his daring steals. Fiora watched the boy thief with amusement but paid little attention to his stories. Using this time to study her environment, she noticed that Filippo was not the only one dressed in shabby, dirty clothes. Other men and a few women scattered about the inn possessed similar clothing. Were these the attire of the common thief? Was this place perhaps the main hub for thieving operations? From their surveillance and study of the assassins, Fiora and Baltasar observed the assassin's use of thieves as informants, soldiers, and distractions for most of their missions. Cesare had his own group, Cento Occhi, but she knew this inn was not run by them. Fiora grinned at the thought that she may have discovered a key hideout for the  _assassini._  A sudden thump next to her drew Fiora from her thoughts to find Filippo passed out on the bar, his tankard empty and tipped over.

"Ah _,_ pity. I really was enjoying your tales," Fiora sighed, patting the boy on his head as she stood up from the bar.

"The boy obviously couldn't handle such a beautiful woman."

Fiora slowly turned to find a similarly dressed man to Filippo leaning on the bar behind her. This man was thicker and taller, filling in his clothes much better than the thin boy. A cap was placed over dark hair, slightly shadowing his sharp eyes in the dim lit inn.

"And you think you can,  _signore_?" Fiora challenged as the man walked around to the unconscious boy. He nudged Filippo and chuckled when there was no response from the boy.

"At least better than this  _bambino_."

White.

Fiora's eyes snapped away from the man thief to the opposite end of the inn, a familiar white cowl emerging from a room at the other end of the bar.  _Finally._  The master assassin appeared to be in deep conversation with a man in a brown cowl and cape.  _An ally?_

"Now what is a beautiful woman like you doing in such a place as this?"

Fiora focused back to the man in front of her and flicked her hair over her shoulder to hide her moment of distraction.

"Are you assuming beautiful women do not frequent this inn? I see many women here that prove such a thing false," said Fiora, sipping at her wine and keeping one eye on the man in front of her and the other on the white-clothed man behind him.

"Not at all. I simply haven't seen your fine face here before," the man leaned a bit closer and scrutinized her.

There was something in the eyes of the new thief she didn't like as if he was trying to see too much. As if he knew she was not here for simple pleasure.

"I am bored easily and always in pursuit of new entertainment," Fiora lilted, her eyes straying back to Ezio and then to the gambling crowd next to the master assassin. Fiora's attention focused back to the man thief in front of her with a smirk.

_Showtime._

"How about you entertain me in a game?" Fiora suggested, gesturing towards the gaming crowd with her head. The man glanced back at the table and then back to her, a smirk creeping onto his face as well.

"Oh, I dunno about that,  _bella_. I wouldn't want you to cry when you lose," he said, his stance confident and sure. Fiora liked his forwardness and smiled.

"Try me."

Abandoning her wine, Fiora allowed the man thief to guide her through the inn, a hand at her back. The hand felt both inviting and cautious. He did not trust her.  _Good, he shouldn't._ Passing close by Ezio and his companion, the man in the brown cowl and cape flicked his eyes in her direction, wariness clear in his eyes but he quickly resumed his conversation with the assassin. Too bad the inn was too loud for her to eavesdrop.

"Hello, boys," Fiora said, her voice low and rich as they approached the gambling crowd. The men had organized themselves into a circle, rolling their dice and placing their bets on the floor. Despite the heavy gambling, some of the men had courtesans on their laps and every man had a tankard in hand. At the sound of her voice, the gambling men's eyes fell on her.

"Mind if I join you,  _caro_?" The ex-courtesan ran her hand through the closest man's hair, whose hand was down the front of a courtesan's dress. Fiora felt the man shiver under her touch and the courtesan on his lap scowled.

"You may not enjoy us taking all your money,  _bella mia_ ," a man with an eyepatch sneered from the opposite side of the circle, his remaining eye focusing on her chest.

"Funny," Fiora placed a finger to her lips in thought," I was about to say the same thing to you."

Eyepatch man's mouth twitched in annoyance.

"Come,  _amici_!" cried the man thief who escorted her to the crowd and pulled a chair over for her to sit on. "Shall we see if this woman is as fearsome in her gambling as she is in beauty?"

The gambling began and Fiora paid little importance to whether she was winning or losing. It wasn't her money after all; having convinced the man she had previously stroked his hair to pay her bets. The crowd half cheered and half booed as she won twice in a row. Smirking at the man thief in triumph, another bet was placed and Fiora waited for her turn. The back of her chair suddenly creaked and shifted. Fiora stilled as she sensed a light breathe against her ear.

"I did not take you for a gambler,  _Madonna_?"

Fiora resisted the urge to shiver as the man's breath tickled her neck and smirked without looking at the velvety-voiced disturber. The master assassin had taken the bait.  _Too easy_ , Fiora sighed in her head.

"And what if I am? Do you look down at me, Auditore?" Fiora whispered, tossing her dice into the circle.

The crowd cheered and booed again. This time Fiora had lost and the eyepatch man gloated over his new earnings. She turned her eyes to Ezio and found his face inches away from hers, hoodless and amused.

"Gambling is only terrible when you go too far. But that is also the fun of it," Ezio replied, straightening and pulling a chair over, flipping it around to sit on it backward. The man thief was watching their interaction with a mixed expression of awe and curiosity. It was obvious that most the men in the circle revered Ezio. Therefore, Fiora came to the conclusion that most the men in the circle knew who Ezio truly was.

"Does that mean you are a gambler,  _signore_?"

"Only when the stakes are interesting enough to catch my eye," Ezio replied, watching the next men places their bets and roll. Ezio looked at Fiora with a sly smile and then did a double take, his expression turning into concern.

"What?" Fiora asked, taken back from his sudden mood change.

Ezio reached forward and caressed her wounded cheek. Fiora winced as his thumb grazed the fresh wound and slightly pulled away.

"Who did this to you, Fiora?"

"What do you say we make this next round a bit more 'interesting' for you then, Auditore?" Fiora deflected, pulling away from the assassin's reach. Ezio did not need to know about meeting with Cesare.

"What do you have in mind, Fiora?" Ezio said lowly, drawing out her name and retreating his hand back to his side.

Fiora reached forward and toyed with the collar of his robes, purposely letting a finger graze exposed skin.

"One round, you and I. If you win, I'll give you my special attention for the night."

Ezio raised a brow.

"And if I lose?"

"You owe me supper." This made Ezio laugh heartily.

"What? You do not want my special attention as well?"

"I get men's special attention all the time. Yours wouldn't be any different than the rest."

The assassin's eyes flashed with a challenge. He tapped the man thief on the arm while keeping his focus on Fiora and the thief passed his die to Ezio's open hand. Shaking the dice around in his hand, Ezio smirked at her.

"Shall we?"

Fiora's and Ezio's little challenge had gained the attention of everyone in the gambling circle. The air was thick with anticipation and no one dared speak. All the men were sick with envy for Ezio's position and all the courtesans wished they were Fiora.

"At the same time?" Fiora suggested as she crossed her legs and lazily shook her own dice.

"1, 2, 3."

The die flew across the circle and everyone stood up. Cheers erupted from the men and Ezio was assaulted by back slaps. Fiora showed no physical change except a small smirk on her face. Ezio, as well, kept his attention on Fiora, success gleaming in his eyes.

"You win, Auditore," Fiora hummed and fake sighed in defeat. Bedding the master assassin had not actually been part of her original plan but sex was her best weapon. Many men told their best secrets after a rough tumble in the sheets to a woman they thought could never hurt them. Reputations were destroyed and even lives ended after men entered Fiora's bed. It was the reason Cesare kept her around and spoiled her with gifts. She was his deadly beauty.

"Lucca!" One of the inn attendants appeared at Ezio's side. "Prepare a table for us." The attendant nodded and disappeared. Ezio stood and offered a hand to Fiora, the smirk of triumph still on his countenance. Fiora had a childish desire to slap it off.

"Come, let us have supper," Auditore said and not waiting for her to take his hand, he grabbed her own hand to pull her to standing.

"I did not win for me to enjoy supper," Fiora said, crossing her arms and tilting her head at the assassin.

"No, you did not. But I never deny a woman her desires," Ezio whispered into her ear as put a hand on her back to guide her toward the table the inn attendant was currently shooing poorly dressed thieves away from. Ezio's hand on her back felt much different than the man thief from earlier. Where the man thief's hand was stiff with caution, the assassin's was warm and heavy with intent. Fiora could not help but pride herself in captivating the master assassin. They would eat; she would bed him and get some information about the assassin order. Then she would kill him in his sleep.

"How long are you going to keep this act up, Fiora?"

Fiora's eyes snapped to Ezio, his dark eyes trying to pierce into her very soul. Ezio pulled out a chair and Fiora gracefully took her seat. As Ezio walked around the table, Fiora retorted.

"And what act are you referring to,  _assassino_?"

Ezio slowed his movements as he lowered himself down into his seat, his expression giving Fiora a silent warning.

"I would be careful using that word around a public place such as this,  _cara mia_. Guards frequent this inn and would not hesitate to assault either of us."

"I can handle myself," Fiora shrugged and leaned back to let the inn attendant bring plates of bread, cheese, and fruit to the table.

"That is not how I remember last night."

Fiora froze mid-motion in putting a grape in her mouth when she recalled their scuffle in her abode last night. A small scowl flashed across her features.

"Ah, there she is," Ezio hummed, stealing the grape from her hand popping it into his own mouth. "Now this is the Fiora I remember: the fiery minx."

"My injuries were severe yesterday and you took advantage of that," said Fiora, reaching for another grape. "It wasn't a fair fight to begin with."

Ezio halted her motion by seizing her wrist. Fiora fought the desire to start another fight between them. It amazed her how easily Ezio got under her skin. Not even Cesare could break her courtesan act like the master assassin. It was frustrating and it made Fiora feel powerless. She hated being at the mercy of someone else and she had a feeling Ezio felt the same way. Thus their entertaining power struggle. Even now, with Ezio's firm grip around her wrist, Fiora could not decide whether she wanted to charm him or slit his throat. Ezio pulled her hand towards his mouth and painfully slow, placed his mouth over the grape in her hand, his lips and teeth grazing her fingers as he stole the grape.

"How are your injuries?" Ezio asked, his mouth a hair away from her fingers,"You were not in good shape when I left you."

" _Bene._  As you can see, I am able to walk around on my own and not be carried around like a damsel in distress," Fiora replied, removing her hand from his grasp and deciding to pick up a slice of bread and cheese. It was a lie. After her little adventure in tailing Ezio around Roma, her feet ached. There were times she had felt a sharp pain and knew that her bandages were well past the point of needing to be replaced.

"Most women enjoy being saved by dashing men," Ezio commented, picking up another grape and tossing it into his mouth.  _Grapes_ _must be a favorite of his_.

"I'm not most women," Fiora said, taking a bite of her cheese and bread while giving Ezio a proud look.

" _Si_ , this I know."

Fiora held his gaze for a moment and then looked down at the plate of fruit.

"Are the grapes still off limits?" Fiora teased, leaning forward and resting her arms on the table.

Ezio chuckled.

"Perhaps I'll allow one," Ezio teased back, picking up a grape and holding it in front of her lips, tempting her with his golden eyes. Fiora narrowed her eyes but couldn't help smirking. Following his example, the ex-courtesan slowly leaned forward and rolled the grape into her mouth with her tongue. Before further flirting could continue, however, Ezio took this opportunity to put a hand on her wounded cheek again, this time not touching the raw gash.

"Fiora, who did this to you?"

The ex-courtesan sighed; he was not going to let her run away from this question.

"Why do you care, Auditore?"

"Is it a sin for a man to care for another woman?"

Fiora scoffed, "Please. In my line of work, men seriously caring for women is a rarity. Men enjoy dominating everything they touch. Especially if it is a woman." She then attempted to move her face away from his hand, anger now stirring in her belly as she recalled the backhanded slap Cesare dealt her earlier. Ezio's hand lowered to rest on the crook of her neck and halted her retreat, his eyes narrowing.

"Every woman should be treated like a queen."

She could not bring herself to say anything. The sincerity in his eyes was suffocating and drained all anger from her body. Ezio was too intense at this moment and she wanted to run. Not in fear but because this man made her feel vulnerable and naked. But not in a good way.

"I hope I am not interrupting something."

Fiora's attention snapped to the brown hooded and caped man standing next to the table, the same man Ezio was so closely dialoguing with earlier.

"Not at all, Gilberto," Ezio said as he removed his hand and leaned back in his chair, taking a healthy swig from his wine glass. "Gilberto, this is the lovely Fiora. Fiora, this is Gilberto, owner of La Volpe Anddoramentata."

Fiora was grateful for this interruption and extended a hand to Gilberto. The brown hooded man placed a light kiss on her knuckles. Having a closer look, Fiora noted that the man was much older than Ezio and possessed striking green eyes, eyes of cunning and sharpness.

"A pleasure,  _Messere_ ," Fiora purred.

"Indeed," Gilberto agreed and he motioned around the inn, " How are you enjoying Anddoramentata?"

"Very beautiful. I remember when this place was just an abandoned inn. Now it has been transformed into a lovely den of thieves."

All humor vanished from Gilberto's face and his eyes flicked towards Ezio. The man thief from earlier suddenly appeared behind Gilberto's shoulder, his stance stiff and defensive. Stealing a glance in Ezio's direction, she could not read the emotion in his eyes but he had frozen in eating his half-eaten slice of bread. Fiora couldn't help the satisfied smile spread on her face and smugly took a sip of her own wine. All three reactions from the men confirmed her declaration, even though she had not been completely sure herself if her accusations were true.

"And why,  _Madonna_ , would you think this inn is such a place?" questioned Gilberto, his posture one of precaution and his eyes full of mistrust.

"May I suggest training your young ones to keep more tight-lipped about their professions?" the ex-courtesan tilted her head towards the still passed out boy at the bar from earlier. "He was much too eager to share with me his daring tales of thievery."

Gilberto turned to look at the pitiful boy and then back to Fiora.

"A woman's charm can loose the stillest tongue. I will make sure Filippo is more fortified next time he is in your presence."

"A wise decision."

" _S_ _cusi_  but I have business I must return to. I'm sure we will encounter each other again, Fiora."

_Of course. Send your thieves to monitor me. I dare you._

Gilberto nodded at Ezio and then lead the man thief away.

"You have interesting friends, Auditore," sighed Fiora, starting to get bored with the simple food in front her.

"And you are the most interesting of them all," Ezio replied, finishing off his glass.

"We are friends now, are we? I do not remember crossing that line."

"I did save your life from the guards-"

"I didn't need your help."

"- Succored your wounds and provided for dinner. I would say that makes us more than just strangers."

"And then what happens when you take advantage of your winnings from our game?"

"Very  _friendly_  friends."

Fiora laughed.  _Eloquent._

Ezio abruptly stood and flipped a few florins onto the table

"Unfortunately, I will have to take advantage of my winnings another night."

 _Damn it._  "Do you have a different appointment for tonight?"

"I have some business that I too must attend to, unfortunately. However, I do know where you live," Ezio seized Fiora's hand, bringing it to his lips, "And I will show you that I am not like any other man you have met."

The look in the assassin's eyes caused Fiora's heart to flip.

" _Buono sera, bella mia_."

As she watched the assassin raise his hood and walk away, annoyance and disappointment rose inside Fiora. Disappointment because she had learned nothing new from Ezio. Annoyance because Ezio was the first man in many years to beat her at her own game of charm. The assassin had an irritating habit of keeping Fiora the subject of the conversation. She was hoping to use a night in bed together to get more information but Ezio deferred her advances for another time. Fiora wanted to follow the assassin, see what business stole him away from her but she caught the eyes of the man thief who was lounging against the bar. She leaned back, still keeping eye contact with the man thief and sipping her wine.

_Not tonight._

* * *

_A few more, then the captain._

Ezio melted from one shadow to the next, dispatching guards as he went. It was not difficult to hide in the vast shadow of the Borgia tower. Especially when half the guards on duty were lethargic and unaware of the predator stalking all of them. Coming up behind a yawning guard, Ezio swiftly and silently shoved his hidden blade into the back of neck. The guard, however, did not die quietly. The injured man scrambled and scrapped at the back of his neck, flipping around to stare at Ezio in horror. Ezio cocked his head in confusion as he noted that his blade had not punctured completely through the guard's throat. Correcting his mistake, he lashed out and slashed the man's throat from the front. Catching the guard and lowering him to the ground, the master assassin brought his hidden blade into the moonlight to examine it.  _Cazzo._ The blade had not extended fully and jammed halfway out.

_Fantastic._

Not only did he not have his blade from the codex pages but also his remaining blade was broken. Ezio tried to sheath the hidden blade and first, nothing happened. Patience evaporating, the master assassin banged his bracer against the wall and flicked his wrist. The blade sheathed but when he attempted to draw the blade again, nothing happened. Sighing in irritation, Ezio concentrated and allowed his vision to blur and morph into his Sight. A gold aura was making its way around the base of the Borgia tower with two red auras in tow. Switching back to his normal vision and crouching low, Ezio's muscles coiled as he drew his long dagger. The captain appeared around the corner and Ezio pounced. Jumping high, Ezio used his weight to bring the Captain to the ground and slashed the man's throat at the same time. Rolling to the side, he slashed one of the following guard's knees and shoved his dagger into his chest once his body hit the ground. The last guard had only enough time to draw his sword before the guard found a dagger in his heart. Wasting no time, the master assassin deftly scaled the tower to finish his task.

Ezio watched from afar as the tower was gutted by the raging fire he began and then glanced down at his hidden blade. Unfortunately, Leonardo was out of his reach and unable to help him. Tomorrow, he needed to find someone who would be able to fix it. As he turned his back to the burning tower, his thoughts turned to a certain brunette beauty with a marred cheek and quick tongue.

_The little minx. Perhaps I'll pay her a visit tomorrow..._


End file.
